Saints & Angels (Deleted Scenes)
by Caught In A Simple Game
Summary: The extended adventures of Aven, Torrin, the McManus brothers, and Rocco. In other words, scenes I wanted to write that didn't fit into the main story. Requests welcomed!
1. Aven Returns to the States

"You should really be laying down," Dermot scolded from a chair next to her hospital bed. He carefully inspected the fingernail he had been chewing on before moving on to the next one.

Aven Donaghue rolled her eyes. "It's not as bad as you think it is – and I can tell you're so clearly concerned."

Her brother leaned forward in the chair. "You took a hard fall, Av. Doesn't hurt to check things out."

"I know. I'm just pissed it all went down that way."

"Well, you know who to speak to about that."

"And we both know that won't happen," Aven returned. "Uncle Peter swore to me he would never put us in harm's way."

"He didn't put _us_ in harm's way. He put _you_ in harm's way."

"Let's not talk loopholes, Dermot. I'm not in the mood."

Dermot sat back in the chair and resumed chewing on his fingernails. Before the doctor could return with results of Aven's head scan, their Captain stepped into the room.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"It's nothing, Captain," Aven replied casually. "Just a little bump on the head."

"Word I got is that you fell two stories to hard concrete."

"Sounds about right," Dermot piped up.

Aven glared at him. "Don't you have some paperwork to fill out, dear brother?"

Dermot rolled his eyes; being trained under his older sister had its perks and it had its curses. He did as was encouraged though, and headed back for the organization's office to begin the paperwork Aven would eventually have to complete. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to the Captain.

"We destroyed the files and we were on our way out. The power was shut off, so the elevators were out and the electric locks were down. We were scaling out a window at the back of the building, and my rope was cut."

Captain raised his brow at her. "It was cut?"

Aven let out a breath. "Yes, and I know what that means. I'll take care of it."

"I trust that you will." He handed her a few pieces of paper. "We've been tracking the mafia in Boston. There are some rumblings about alliances with the Russians. In supervising that situation, I've come across a new tie with your family."

Aven scanned the report and then the pictures she had been given. The report named Gavan McConnelly as Boston's shot-caller for the Irish Mafia. In several pictures, he was shown being affectionate with a woman – clearly someone he was dating. The woman's face was all too familiar.

"Torrin is dating him," Aven whispered to herself. Saying it aloud made it real. "Have you approached her?"

Captain shook his head. "This is under the radar right now. I wanted you to be have the option to choose what you want to do."

"I want to go to Boston," she replied without hesitation. "I have to know what's going on. This isn't a phone conversation."

"I know that," Captain assured her, taking the papers back. "I want to know what the doctor says about your head. If that clears, I want you to go to your uncle; Torrin is his daughter. If after speaking with him you still truly believe she needs your protection, Aven, I will send you to Boston."

"What about Dermot?"

"He's trained. You've done a good job of that. If you come back, I'll partner you up again, but in the meantime, I'll make sure he has a dependable partner."

"I want the final approval on that."

"Fine."

The Captain waited with her while the doctor reviewed her scans. She had a minor concussion that would require a few days of rest before Aven would be allowed back to work. Before letting her catch a cab back to her loft, the Captain made her promise not to speak with her uncle until she was cleared back to work.

Aven agreed but knew it was a promise already broken.

.&amp;.

Connor held the door open while Murphy patiently helped Doc over to his bed. Once both of the other men were inside the room, Connor let go of the door to open the bag that contained all of Doc's meds.

"Now, we'll be by several times a day to see to it you're taking these," Connor warned.

"Yeah, so don't be skipping doses," Murphy added.

Doc chuckled as he settled against the pillows and pulled the blankets up to his chest. "Oh, boys. One or two pills aren't going to make a difference in this outcome."

The twins exchanged an uneasy glance. Murphy went for a glass of water while Connor counted out the first dose of the pills Doc had been instructed to take.

"You never know what could happen," Connor assured.

Doc dutifully swallowed his pills, but shook his head. "Come now. We all know what this is. I've been sent home to die, lads." Both of the twins rushed to argue, but Doc stopped them. "No use arguin' it. I've lived my life and it's time for me to go. This ole ticker doesn't want to take me any further."

"What about the bar?" Murphy asked. "It can't run without you."

"It can and it will," Doc countered. "Oh, I'd love to leave it to you boys, but you've got a job already. An important one at that. So, I've sold it."

"Sold it?" Connor repeated with a frown.

"In the process of selling it. The lawyer will come see me tomorrow to give me all the final details." He had expected the disappointment in their expressions, but hadn't expected that disappointment to affect him so much. "I'm going to rest now. Are you boys off?"

Murphy shook his head. "We'll be around, downstairs. Yell if you need us."

"Will do." Doc smiled as his tired eyes closed and sleep came over him.

Connor and Murphy stepped outside of the room, closing the door behind them. They stood in the hallway for a few moment, trying to process everything.

"This is really it, isn't it?" Murphy spoke up.

Connor nodded. "Aye. I think it is."

Murphy swallowed hard and refused to tear up. "We've got to do something. We can't let him sell this place."

"I think it's already in the works, Murph. It's what he wants."

Murphy shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Yeah, well, neither do I, but it ain't our call. Come on. Let's get a drink."

Reluctantly, they walked away from the bedroom, both silently praying for a miracle.

.&amp;.

It was a pretty day in Boston, rare for this time of year. Torrin Hannigan was hellbent on taking advantage of it. She donned a pretty floral dress, added some stylish accessories, and headed out the door. She had a meeting with a lawyer later in the morning, and then would be meeting Gavan, her new boyfriend, for lunch.

It had taken a few years, several waitressing jobs, and some business courses, but Torrin was finally ready to sign the papers to buy her own pub. She would have to hire some people to help her, but McGinty's was already a successful pub and even if she lost some of the current clientele, Torrin was confident she could afford to bring in two, maybe three employees.

How different this was from her life growing up. There were no more secrets, no more hiding out, no more lies. She could present her life at face value without concern of what new friends might find out about her later.

Just before she walked in to meet the lawyer, her cousin called from Ireland. Torrin and Aven were close, and Torrin never passed on a call from her dearest family member.

"Good morning – or I should say _good afternoon _to you," Torrin greeted.

"Well, good morning to you," Aven replied. Her usually cheerful voice sounded somber – and maybe worried?

"You all right? You sound upset."

"I'm fine, just tired. It was a late night," Aven explained. "What are you up to?"

"About to sign the papers for the pub," Torrin grinned. "It's all coming together, Av."

"Still think you'll have to hire in some help?"

"Sure," Torrin confirmed. "But it shouldn't be a problem. Won't have to pay rent since I'll have the apartment above the pub. I can be there as much as I need to be."

"It's all happening for you, Tor," Aven replied, and Torrin could hear the smile in her cousin's voice.

"Aye," Torrin agreed. "My life finally makes sense. I've got just a few minutes before the lawyers get here, so enough about me. Tell me what's going on with you."

There was a momentary pause. "I need to come back to Boston."

Fear gripped every nerve in Torrin's body. Just when things were beginning to make sense, had her cousin been caught up in the same world their fathers were a part of? She hated to even think of it. Then again, Aven's line of work could just as easily put in her danger without help from their fathers' work.

"What happened?"

Aven let out a deep sigh. "A project that went bad. I'm all right, and Dermot's just fine. He'll keep working, with a new partner. But I've got to get out of Ireland. How would you like a partner and bartender for that pub? And maybe a roommate?"

Torrin thought it over. "That'd be just about perfect, actually. You and me workin' together? We'd make quite the team."

"Aye," Aven agreed; the smile had returned to her voice. "Can you fax me over the paperwork? I'll have the agency's lawyer take a look for me. I can wire over the money as soon as everything is agreed upon."

Torrin got the number from Aven to fax the paperwork, and Aven wrote down some numbers that Torrin supplied.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you soon," Torrin breathed. "Be safe."

"Always," Aven promised. "You do the same."

Torrin promised she was just fine and ended the call. The lawyers were both arriving to the building then, so she followed them up to the conference room to discuss this newest development.

.&amp;.

As soon as she was off the phone with Torrin, Aven headed over to the family's office building to meet with her uncle. His secretary told Aven that Peter Hannigan was in a meeting and it could be quite a while before he was available to meet with her. Aven saw right through the younger woman's façade; she had clearly been instructed to give Aven that answer.

"It's fine," Aven said flatly. "I'll wait."

"Miss, it could really be –"

"All day?" Aven finished for her. "What I have to tell him about won't take long. I'll stick around in case they get a break or something."

"Very well." The young blonde went back to her computer for a few minutes as Aven sat in a nearby chair. Then, the secretary picked up a few file folders and knocked on Peter's door. Aven could hear a hushed conversation before the secretary returned. "It seems Mr. Hannigan's conference call has been delayed. You may go in."

"Thank you." Aven took a deep breath and walked into her uncle's office.

It was just as intimidating now as it had been when she was a child. Clutter-free and immaculate, cool but comfortable – the office's appearance matched her uncle's appearance perfectly. But, as they say, appearances can be deceiving.

"Aven, my dear girl," Peter greeted, coming around to hug her.

She returned his embrace and kissed his cheek. "Uncle Peter."

"Have a seat," he offered, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. "What brings you by?"

Aven took a deep breath. "Have you talked to Torrin lately?"

Peter waved a hand in the air. "Here and there, when she calls Belinda."

"So you know she's dating someone."

Peter shuffled papers and sounded impatient. "I was aware of it."

Aven pursed her lips. "Did you know that the man she's dating is Gavan McConnelly?"

At this, Peter paused, pushing the papers to the side in an unkempt pile. "I was _not _aware of that. How did you find out?"

"It's not important," Aven dismissed. "I want to know what you're going to do about it."

"Do about it?" Peter frowned. "I've no hand in my daughter's decisions, Aven. She made that quite clear when she chose to stay in the States after she graduated high school."

"If he doesn't already know who she is, he'll find out," Aven continued. "He'll take advantage of that to come for your position. Don't you know that? Or he'll threaten her – kidnap her and demand your job as ransom."

"Bollocks," Peter snorted. "You're jumping to conclusions. You have no idea what kind of a man he is. Maybe he's perfectly content where he's at."

"When have any of you been content where you're at?" Aven countered. "You fought your way to where you are now. Why would Gavan McConnelly be any different?"

Peter shook his head. "Overreacting as usual. You're a passionate, fierce-willed girl, Aven, and I've always admired that about you. It could possibly be your greatest attribute, and also your worst."

"I'm going to Boston. Partnering with Torrin on the new pub."

"You're going to find something wrong with Gavan so that you can put him away and out of her life," Peter countered, standing from his chair.

Aven stood to meet eyes with him. "No, I'm going for Torrin. If you will not protect her, I will."

.&amp;.

The end was coming. Doc was sleeping more than he was awake and no longer had an appetite. The brothers did what they could to keep him hydrated and comfortable, but they knew he would be gone soon.

"Boys," Doc coughed out upon waking one afternoon. "Boys, come here."

They were already at his sides, but they took his hands so he would be aware of their presence. He took a couple of deep breaths before looking at both of them.

"You're good boys," he told them. "I want you to know what's going to happen after I die."

"We're listening," Connor assured.

"I've sold the bar to two pretty Irish girls. You'll like them, I think," Doc beamed. "The lawyer has told me all about them, and even brought a picture. Don't give them too much trouble, will ya? And you'll come around every once in a while to make sure no one's givin' 'em a hard time?"

"If that's what you want, we'll do it," Murphy promised.

"Good boys. I always said you were good boys," Doc smiled as he drifted off to sleep again. The boys let go of his hands but stayed by his side. Whatever else they had going on, it would simply have to wait. They had more important things to tend to at the moment.

They were still there two days later when Doc McGinty went to sleep for the last time.


	2. Sunrise Conversations (Aven&Murphy)

Aven wasn't sure what it was about that night, but there was something more hanging in the air between herself and Murphy. She almost had to force herself to work; she just wanted to sit and spend time with him. The extra shine in his eyes made her think that maybe Murphy was feeling the same towards her.

When the bar closed and it was time for their nightly coffee, Connor did what he often did: suggested he and Torrin take their coffee and go for a walk. Torrin agreed, so long as Aven would lock up. Aven promised, and caught Murphy smiling victoriously from the corner of her eye.

"You set that up, didn't you? Anxious to get me alone, are ya?" she teased.

Murphy shook his head. "Connor's likely to get Torrin alone at any chance he gets. I just get to enjoy the benefits of getting you alone." He gave her a very explicit wink and grin.

"Murphy MacManus!" Aven scolded, reaching out to pinch him. "Come on, let's take the booth by the window. We can people watch."

"After two in the mornin'? Lordy, girl. You've got a little wishful thinkin' goin' there."

Aven just smirked and rolled her eyes as she sipped at her coffee and slid into the booth. The warm liquid slid down her throat and warmed her insides. She shuddered from it; Murphy offered her his jacket.

"I'll be all right, thanks."

"Don't be difficult, take it," Murphy insisted, wrapping the thing around her shoulders.

It was warm, cozy, and smelled like him. Aven was intoxicated. "Is this how you charm all the girls?"

Murphy snorted. "Don't do much charming these days, except maybe for you. Honestly though, Aven, my work keeps me pretty occupied. It's only by the grace of God I get to be here with ya as much as I am."

_Here with ya_, he'd said. Aven didn't miss it, and didn't think she was reading too much into it either. "What kind of girls _have_ you been with?"

"Lord in Heaven," Murphy said, crossing himself. "Is this going to be the sex talk?"

"Absolutely not!" Aven exclaimed. "I've no need to know where Little Murphy's been. Just want to know what kind of girl you've dated."

"Ah, I getcha." He leaned back against the booth and rubbed his chin. "There was one girl, years ago. She's the only one worth tellin' about, I suppose. Name was Ciara, and I wanted her so bad. She was the prettiest girl in our town. Took her out for a date once, and Lord knows I would have done anything for her."

"So what happened?"

"She thought I was Connor."

Aven couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Ya aren't identical! _Conas is dúr a bhfuil tú a bheith_?" She figured someone would have to be pretty damn stupid to not be able to tell the two of them apart.

Murphy took a good gulp of his coffee and smiled. "I like that you do that, ya know – throw in a little Irish here and there."

"Do ya really?" Aven asked, wrinkling her nose. "It's force of habit, I suppose. Not that so many people use it on a regular basis back home, but we grew up with it."

"Keeps you close to your roots, not a bad thing." He paused. "Do you ever miss Ireland?"

"Every day," Aven said quietly, and with a sad smile. "Anyway – this girl. What did you do?"

"Took her home," Murphy shrugged. "She wasn't interested in me. Connor wasn't interested in her. That was the end of it."

"Just my luck." Aven let the teasing note in her voice reach her eyes, wondering how long the both of them would dance around this flirting game before admitting to true attraction.

.&amp;.

Their conversation strayed back to Ireland from there – the places they had grown up, their favorite hideouts and places to visit. Murphy promised to go back with her as soon as they both were able. Aven smiled at him gratefully, and he thought that maybe he saw a bit of a shy pink glitter her cheeks.

"What about you, Aven? Tell me about the first boy to break your heart," Murphy prompted.

Aven took a deep breath. "You're the one always talkin' about it's too early for this, too late for that. Here we are, after two in the morning, and you're asking about heartbreaks."

"Only so I don't do the same thing."

"Ha!" Aven finished off her coffee and pushed the mug away. "Well, to start off with, I wasn't allowed to date until I was eighteen. When I was seventeen though, just before we left the States, I fell head over heels for a boy doing runs for my uncle and father here in Boston. I snuck out almost every night to see him. He told me that he had plans for us – a house in the Irish countryside with lots of babies. He would work whatever he had to do so that I could stay home."

Murphy cocked his head to the side. "What happened to him?"

Aven leaned forward on her elbows. "My father caught us, and threw a fit. I was forbidden from seeing this boy again, but he didn't care what my father said. He told me that the night of my high school graduation, we were going to get on a boat and go back to Ireland. We'd be married there and then no one could stop us from being together."

"That must not have worked out."

"No, it didn't," Aven sighed. "The day before my graduation, he was sent back to Ireland for a job. By the time I got back there, he had found another girl and married her."

Murphy reached for her hand. "That wasn't your fault, Aven."

"Oh, I'm aware of it," she said, sitting back in the booth, against the window with her legs stretched out across the seat. "My father and uncle paid him a large sum of money to move on with his life. Apparently it was a larger sum than I was worth."

Murphy shook his head. "There's not any number of any currency in the world that I would trade you for."

Aven grinned and pushed his hand away. "Yeah, yeah, you're charming. I get it. More coffee?"

He opted for another cup while silently cursing himself for not having the courage to tell her it was the truth.

.&amp;.

They talked about their pasts, and then they moved on to their futures – and a more comfortable corner booth. Murphy stretched his legs across to the other side, and Aven laid her head in his lap.

"In ten years," she started. "Tell me where you'll be."

"Where I want to be, or where I think I'll be?"

"Both."

"I suppose I'd like to be back home. Maybe have a wife, sons. I don't know what I would do, though," Murphy admitted. "I can't imagine my life any different than it is now. Which is probably why I think I'll be in the same place where I'm at now, in an apartment with my brother and our friend."

"Maybe not. I believe that God serves those who serve him. You do his work now, Murph, and he will have a bounty for you later."

"Spoken like a true woman of God."

"Don't let the whiskey and the cursing – or the anger – fool you. I'm highly indebted to the Church."

"For what?" Murphy asked.

Aven shook her head. "Some things you'll have to find out later."

"Fair enough," Murphy smirked, playing his fingers through her hair. "What about you? What's your ten-year plan?"

Aven shrugged, looking up at him with those green eyes Murphy couldn't get enough of – eyes that had pulled him into the bar the first night he met her. "I swear I'm not just saying this, but I wouldn't mind being a wife with kids back in Ireland. Maybe it's because I was given that dream when I was younger and never quite let go of it."

"It's okay to just admit that's what you want," Murphy assured in a gentle voice. "I think you're a good woman. You'd make a good mama, too. Stern but caring. I can see it already."

Neither of them were sure exactly how he meant the comment to come out; Aven just smiled up at him again, until her features fell.

"But, I suppose my future is similar to yours. In ten years I'll probably be alone, working the bar while Torrin and Gavan make babies upstairs."

Murphy laughed. "At least we'll always have the whiskey."

"Yes, the whiskey never lies, never leaves," Aven smiled, sitting up. She didn't want to, but she'd kiss him if she looked up at him while he played with her hair any longer.

.&amp;.

They talked for hours. Anything and everything they could think of; neither one wanted to leave. Before either knew it, light was again filling the bar.

"You're going to be exhausted tomorrow," Murphy whispered.

Somehow, they had ended up on the floor in a corner, Aven leaning against Murphy's chest and trying not to fall asleep. He was playing with her hair again – he couldn't quite stop doing that.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked him.

"Anything," he assured, venturing to kiss her forehead.

Aven swallowed hard and sat up straight. "Do you think I'll ever find a man who wouldn't choose money over me?"

And there, after staying up until the sun rose, in the middle of a pub in Boston, Aven showed Murphy her true heart. She was so different, so unique, but she was the same – she wanted to be loved and needed and wanted.

He leaned forward and contemplated how angry she might be if he kissed her. "I promise you. If he isn't around in ten years, I'll have you."

"What about your calling?" Aven whispered, mentally begging him to make his move and kiss her.

He played with the ends of her hair. "God forgives. For you, I think He would forgive me."

Aven giggled, and the moment passed them by. Murphy just couldn't stand the possibility that she may not want him like he wanted her.

"Well, this has been a fun little flirtation, but I suppose we should see what the other two are up to," Aven told him. She stood and dusted off the seat of her pants.

A flirtation. She thought he was trying to charm her. And, still, Murphy could not find the courage to tell her he meant what he had said with everything in him. Perhaps in ten years the Lord would be finished with him, and Aven would be the wife and mother to his children that he dreamed of having.

.&amp;.

Aven locked the bar behind her and they trudged quietly but hand in hand at the door of the apartment. At the stoop, Aven dropped Murphy's hand.

"Thanks, Murph, for tonight. I mean, last night – however it was. The last several hours mean a lot to me. More than you know." She was trying to be subtle about how she felt. Maybe it would be nice to have him make the first move, instead of taking initiative and forcing the whole thing.

"It was my pleasure, Aven."

He took the key from her hand and unlocked the door, walking in to make sure everything was safe. Aven delighted in the gesture, but tried to keep it off of her face while she checked the bedroom for her cousin.

"Torrin's asleep in her bed," Aven announced quietly, seeing Connor stirring on the couch.

"I'll get this one up and take him with me," Murphy offered. "You girls need anything, you ring us."

Aven nodded. "We will, thanks. See you in a few hours?"

"I'll be here," Murphy promised, chucking her under the chin.

Aven waited for them to go, bidding Connor goodbye as well. She shut and locked the door behind her, leaning against it before moving on with her day. For the first time, her attraction moved on to something new.

She could very well fall in love with Murphy MacManus.


	3. Sunrise Conversations (Torrin & Connor)

Torrin held the kitchen door open for Connor as she sipped at her coffee. He finally caught up to her, and she just shook her head as they made way down the sidewalk.

"What?" he inquired.

"You and your brother think you're so charming."

"We know we're charming, Tori," Connor returned. "But this is different. Between you and me, Murphy's in love with her."

"Really?" Torrin replied, raising her brow. "That's actually kind of perfect."

"Does she want him?"

Torrin shrugged. "I'm not sure, actually. Aven's had a lot on her mind lately, so we haven't had any conversations about that. How she is around him though, I wouldn't be surprised. I just meant that they're so compatible …"

"They are," he agreed. "Hot-headed, cocky, whiskey-drinkers."

Torrin laughed. "True. You're funny, Connor MacManus."

"I just like seeing you smile."

She blushed and took a deep breath, pretending not to hear him. "How's work going?"

Connor noted the change in subject. "It's going. We just go where we're called."

"And you're always careful?"

"Always," Connor replied, although it may not have been the entire truth. They were as careful as they could be, but sometimes completing their assignments took risks.

"Good. I don't know what I would do without the extra help at the pub."

Connor threw his head back in laughter as they circled back around to the apartment. Torrin was just as clever as she was beautiful. But, she was taken, and Connor knew he had to be careful about that. As the pub building came back into view, Connor told his heart to let his mind do the talking.

.&amp;.

Torrin's mind was a blur. She was still with Gavan, although he seemed to be coming around less and less. But this particular man, Connor, had put an extra twinkle in her eye since St. Patrick's Day. There was no doubt in her mind that he was interested in her; although his job put him on the opposite side of things from her father, she wondered how different Connor really was. How long would it be before she was forced to move or hide because of her association with him? Friends was enough to get her into trouble, and she couldn't cross that line.

"What was it like for you, growing up?" she asked him as they sat on the couch in the apartment.

Connor thought for a moment. "It was great, actually. Murph and I caused our fair share of trouble, of course, but our ma kept us in line best she could. Made sure we had a good education – I know a lot of different languages because of her."

"Aye, my parents insisted on that, too. We moved around a lot, though."

"We'll have to play with that sometime."

"Play?"

"See how many languages we can work into one conversation."

Torrin chuckled. "I like that. What else? Where was your Da?"

"Prison, when we were born," Connor answered quietly. "They transferred him a few times and we kind of lost track. Ma didn't want us following in his footsteps, but we did anyway. We're just more careful, I suppose."

"Yeah, my father wasn't around so much, either. My ma spoiled me and my sister though. Made sure we knew how to be ladies and all that."

"That's good," Connor nodded. "I don't think Murphy and I would have made it this far without our mother."

Torrin leaned her head on the back of the couch. She was tired, but she didn't want to stop talking to him. She was trying to think of something else to ask him when he asked about Gavan.

"What about him?"

"How did you meet?"

Torrin sighed. "Almost nine months ago, I was looking for places to open a pub. He was selling a location – obviously not the one I chose. There's a real charmer for you."

"Swept you off your feet, eh?"

"Yeah, in a way no one else has quite done before. He was familiar without me knowing him – that sounds so stupid. He took me out for coffee after I looked at the place and decided it wasn't for me. Then he took me out for dinner. We were pretty much inseparable until a couple months ago."

"How does he get on with Aven?"

"Terrible," Torrin groaned. "She can't stand him, but I'm not sure why."

"Must be a personality clash."

"Could be. Aven's the kind of girl, she either likes you when she meets you or she'll never like you. Don't get me wrong, she may warm up to someone who gave her a bad first impression, but she'll always wonder what's off about them."

"What about you?"

"Me? Oh, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt until I get to know them. People can surprise you, in ways you'd never expect. You may think they're great to start off with, then they can turn around to being a real _eejit_."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Do? About what?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Tori. Gavan. He doesn't treat ya well – hell, I think we see you more often than he does."

"He's a busy guy," she defended, pushing off the couch. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest. "Look, if Gavan's all you want to talk about, I'd rather turn in."

Connor stood, too. "No, listen, I'm sorry, all right? I just … I know you've picked up my hints. I don't want to push you, but you deserve better."

"I know," Torrin whispered, wiping a traitorous tear. Connor came closer to her. "That's probably why I'm defensive about it. He has been getting worse and worse with how he treats me –"

Connor raised his brow and interrupted her. "Has he put hands on you?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Trust me, he wouldn't last long after that, between myself and Aven." She chuckled and wiped the last of her tears. "I guess I just wish I meant more to him. That he wanted to try harder."

"No one can blame you for wanting to be loved," Connor said, pulling her into an embrace. "Didn't mean to push you to tears."

"It's not your fault," Torrin replied, allowing herself to lean against his chest. "I just need to get my shit together."

"Listen, Tori. This is the last I'll say of it – I'm not going anywhere, though. You need me, any time of any day, and I'll be here."

Torrin finally hugged him back. "Thank you, Connor. That means a lot to me."

He smiled. "No more tears then?"

She leaned back and gave him a genuine smile, although her tears were still dissipating. "No more tears. I'm going to change, then probably put in a movie. Why don't you pick something from the case while I change?"

Connor agreed he would stay and meandered over to her DVD case while she disappeared into her room. Something funny would probably be best, to lighten the mood. While he browsed the selection, something caught his eye. He tilted his head and plucked a DVD case from the shelf.

"Find anything?" Torrin asked when she came back.

Connor tried to hold back a laugh as he held the case in front of him. "Anime, huh? You cannot tell me these are Aven's."

Torrin blushed and snatched the DVD away from him. "No, they're mine, and I'm not going to hide it. Obviously because they're out for everyone to see. I just like it; it's an art form. All right?"

Connor held up his hands in defense. "All right, fair enough."

"Then why are you still laughing to yourself?"

He shrugged. "You watch Japanese cartoons. That's … adorable. Come on, let's watch it."

Torrin rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully away from the case. She re-shelved the DVD he had selected. "If we're going to watch anime, we're not going to start with that one. You're going to watch something you might actually like."

She picked something entitled _Black Butler_ from the shelf and shut the case. She motioned for Connor to follow her to her room; he did so with a raised brow. Torrin told him not to get too excited.

"I like to fall asleep while I watch it," she admitted, getting everything started. "Make yourself comfortable."

Connor kicked off his boots and scooted onto the bed. Torrin crawled on from the foot of the bed, remote in hand. It took several positions with the pillows, but she couldn't get her place quite right.

"You're welcome to lean on me, but I don't want to get you in trouble if Gavan comes in," Connor offered.

Torrin considered him for just a few seconds, then made herself comfortable leaning back against his chest and positioning his arm comfortably around her.

"Don't get any crazy ideas," she warned. "I've got a gun under the mattress."

Assuming she was joking, Connor laughed. "I'll try to behave myself."

He had to admit that the show she had him watching was actually entertaining. The storyline kept him captivated, the characters weren't what he would have guessed, but most of all he liked listening to her tell all the background that one wouldn't pick up just from watching the show.

"Are you getting tired of me talking?" she asked.

Connor shook his head. "Just the opposite."

Torrin smiled. She was getting tired, but she was comfortable. It was pushing her closer and closer to wanting him. But, she couldn't. She had Gavan, and he was a much safer choice than Connor.

But he smelled good. Okay, actually, he smelled like fried chicken from serving the night's special in the pub, but underneath that he smelled good. He always did. And he made her smile. He never pushed her, and he always took care of her – well, when the opportunity arose.

All of that lead her to one conclusion: spending time alone with Connor MacManus was dangerous. Spending any time with him was dangerous. She tried to think about Gavan, but he suddenly paled in comparison to the man in bed next to her.

Deciding it wasn't something she wanted to deal with tonight anyway, Torrin let her muscles relax until she drifted off to sleep.

.&amp;.

When she woke, sunlight was struggling to peek in through her window but it was mostly dark still. The television was off, and Connor wasn't next to her. The door cracked open, letting in light from the hallway.

"Tor?"

"Yeah. You okay? Did you just get home?" she asked Aven.

"Yes. I've been downstairs talking to Murphy. Just checking in."

"Where's Connor?"

"He was on the couch when we came in. Sorry to wake you. We'll talk later – I have a lot to tell you."

"Me too," Torrin yawned, getting comfortable again as Aven closed the door.

.&amp;.

"I get it now," Connor said, pulling on his jacket as the brothers walked to their loft apartment.

"Get what?" Murphy asked, lighting a cigarette.

"You and Aven – how you feel about her. I get that now."

Murphy snorted. "I knew that redhead would get to you."

"Now more than ever. We need to find out about this Gavan guy she's dating. Something's not right there, and it's whether I like her or not."

"Agreed. Let's get some sleep, then we'll be on it."

Connor agreed and tried not to worry about what would happen if Gavan found out he'd spent the night in Torrin's apartment. Nothing inappropriate had happened. After she fell asleep, he finished the episode they'd been watching, gently laid her head on her pillow, then turned off the television and lights before making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Someday, Murph," he said as they entered the loft. "Those girls are going to be ours."


	4. The End of Torrin and Gavan

Torrin waited patiently while the prison guard searched her for weapons or other contraband. When he was finished, he handed back her ID and motioned for her to follow him to where Gavan was waiting.

Her boyfriend sat at a small table, his hands cuffed and legs shackled. He looked relieved to see her; Torrin tried to remain neutral in her facial expression.

"Thank ya for comin'," Gavan greeted. He leaned over to kiss her, but Torrin leaned back out of his reach. "You still don't believe me? Tor, I _don't know_ what I'm in here for!"

Torrin didn't reply to that. "Aven can't get you out."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. I don't know what you've done to piss her off, but she's not a person to piss off, Gav."

Gavan narrowed his eyes. "What're the chances she put me in here, just because she didn't like me?"

"Slim to none," Torrin replied. She had more faith in her cousin than anyone else in the world. Even if Aven told her to her face that she had a hand in this, Torrin knew she would go to her grave claiming otherwise.

Gavan shook his head. "I've called a lawyer. He's trying to get information, but he's having a rough time of it – and he's a great lawyer. Hopefully I'll be out of here in a few days."

"Fine."

"C'mon, Tor. This ain't easy, for anyone. But you've got to trust me. You know me."

She looked at him, hoping for some sort of epiphany that would change everything. The only thing she could think of was, no, she did not know him. She knew Connor better than she knew Gavan. What did that mean?

"This all just feels really complicated," Torrin whispered.

Gavan pressed his lips into a thin line. "What part is complicated? This, what I'm dealing with? Or you meeting Connor MacManus?"

Despite the hurt in his eyes, Torrin answered honestly. "All of it. I'm sorry, Gav."

"I love you, Torrin. Do you know that?"

"I know that." She swallowed hard. "Listen, I've got to go. Be careful in here. Have the lawyer call me if you need anything."

She leaned over to kiss his cheek before walking out of the room. She didn't look back until she was outside of the prison grounds.

.&amp;.

After the fight in the pub, Torrin and Aven went back to their apartment to nurse their minor wounds. Aven held a pack of frozen corn against her face, and Torrin tried to get her nosebleed to stop.

"Have you been working out?" Aven asked. "Helluva right hook."

Torrin chuckled as she sat in a chair and leaned her head back. "Every now and then. Hauling liquor cases helps."

"I would imagine it does."

"Aven."

"Yeah?"

Torrin paused, then, at the risk of starting another fight, asked, "Did you put Gavan in jail?"

"I made some calls." Aven held the corn in her lap. "I'm sorry, Tor. I really did only want to protect you. I didn't know how to tell you about Gavan without upending the whole thing. I needed time to figure it out."

"I get it. And hey, it's been a while since we beat the shit out of each other, anyway. We had some catching up to do."

"Oh, right. It's been years. Since Brian Carter, if I recall correctly?" Aven chuckled. "We were both out of our minds over that boy."

"We were," Torrin sighed in remembrance. "If only we had known then what we know now."

Aven nodded. "Come on, let's get some sleep. A whole new day tomorrow."

.&amp;.

Gavan sat on Torrin's couch, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you even hurt over this at all?"

Torrin couldn't look at him. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't very well tell him that yes, she was a little bit hurt, but she was more relieved. The tension that Gavan had brought to her life could begin to recede now. And there was Connor …

"I never meant to hurt you." Torrin had meant it as some sort of consolation, but she could see that it only made things worse. "I just … Gavan, I need you to understand. My entire life has been full of secrets and lies and half-truths. I can't live like that – that's why I never went back to Ireland and why I've established a business without my father's assistance. I don't wish to have connection to his company. That includes you. I'm sorry."

Nevermind that she was furious with him for not telling her that he was involved in the organization. Torrin had decided as soon as she knew she had to part ways with Gavan that she was not going to yell and accuse and make a scene. She would simply sit him down and tell him it was over, and that's what she had done.

Finally, Gavan stood, took the small box of things he'd had at the apartment and let out a deep breath. "I'll get you back, Torrin. Just you wait and see. I'll get you back."

Torrin stood too, her muscles preparing themselves in case she would need to defend herself. Even after Gavan was gone from the apartment and off the pub's property, she stood there, waiting for him to come back.

Gavan's words had been more than a threat or the words of a broken-hearted man. Those words were a promise.


End file.
